


The Story of Tony

by witchway



Series: Sincerity And Secrets [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, College Student Peter Parker, M/M, Tony Has Issues, Tony has Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21574672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: Tony was beginning to see his life as a long and tedious Shakespearean tragedy (or maybe a Greek Tragedy?  Which one had ended with all the dead bodies on stage?  That kind of tragedy.)
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker - Relationship
Series: Sincerity And Secrets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534667
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56





	1. Tragedies

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't yet, I highly recommend you read this story before or after reading The Story Of Peter.
> 
> They go together, hand in hand.
> 
> (Or you can pick two other body parts.)

People noticed that Tony seemed to be walking around with a heavier tread, now. Nat noticed, as did Pepper. Maybe others did as well, but they didn’t matter. Pepper mattered because she was still his wife. Nat mattered because, well, she was the Black Widow, Superspy. She noticed things. And her opinion counted for a lot.

Since Sanjay had left him for Bangalore and Abdulaziz the eunuch, Tony was beginning to see his life as a long and tedious Shakespearean tragedy (or maybe a Greek Tragedy? Which one had ended with all the dead bodies on stage? _That_ kind of tragedy.)

These days, the play seemed to be lingering on the part that all the girls sighed for – the part where one character was up on the balcony in the moonlight thinking outloud and the other character was below the balcony, listening in, getting ready to spout poetry. 

Sure, the girls in the audience were sighing now, but Tony was in the wings, holding the script. He knew that, before the night was over, one character would be romancing the business end of a dagger all because the first character couldn’t have waited 15 minutes for his true love to wake the fuck up.

In Tony’s head, it went like this:

** Anthony And Cleopepper I, A History **

****

After a _great_ deal of experience (from the three plays before) King Tony and Queen Pepper conclude that the terms “Husband and Wife,” while nowhere _close_ to explaining their relationship, _would_ best define them to the outside world. 

And that’s what they wanted. For the outside world to see them as a single, inseparable financial unit. What was going on behind closed doors was none of the world’s business (and impossible to describe, anyway. At least, impossible to sum up in a playbill.)

What _was_ going on behind closed doors, well, that was going smoothly, at any rate. Both had agreed they needed the freedom to scratch whatever itch came along. That was what the kids called Polyamory, and it was all the rage, although they both agreed it was not ready for a spot on the Financial Times. They also agreed that, while the itchscratching occurred and random, if any _serious_ feelings grew from scratching an itch more than once, that they would immediately alert the other. That’s exactly what Pepper did, both when she began her relationship with Maria Hill, and when she realized it was becoming more serious than anticipated. 

And when Pepper had hinted that it was so serious, she was actually visualizing Tony moving out and Maria moving in, Tony (rather foolishly because tragic heroes always have character flaws) jumped headlong into a relationship with the painfully cute and charmingly shy up-and-comer in the Foreign Affairs division, Sanjay Anand.

At least, he thought he had jumped headlong into a relationship.

Turns out Anthony wasn’t as smart as he thought he was.

** Anthony and Anand II, A Tragedy **

The story begins with Tony genially moving out of the home he shared with his wife, amiably talking shop with Maria over drinks knowing damn well that Maria was now sleeping in his bedroom. He was _cheerful_ about it, _terminally_ cheerful. Because he was moving into Stark Tower and he had invited Sanjay to move in with him and Sanjay agreed.

Sort of.

Pepper’s original misgivings about Tony moving out were entirely concerned with who was going to _take care_ of Tony. Who would remind him sleep, to eat, to balance tinkering with the other aspects of life (like food and sleep?) She had quizzed Sanjay on the subject, declared him a genius (which Tony already knew) and was satisfied that the man was up to the task.

Which was why it was so much of a surprise to Tony to find that it was quite the other way around. 

When he came ‘home’ to Stark Tower, he wasn’t terribly interested in another man taking care of him. Instead, he found himself longing, in a new and surprising way, to take care of another man. 

It wasn’t easy, of course, this new lifestyle (not living with a man, but living with someone he had to take care of. Because taking care of Sanjay meant he had to take care of himself. THAT was his new lifestyle.)

His new lifestyle was very difficult primarily because _no one knew Sanjay existed_ outside of Pepper and Maria. Sanjay lived a precarious double- life (Tony tried to relate, but couldn’t) trying to live one life in America (with a male lover who was technically still married to a woman) and one life in Bangalore (where being openly gay was not an astute business decision.) Still, the Anthony of this Shakespearean Tragedy entertained High Hopes. When Pepper and Maria casually chatted about their budding plans for the future Tony nodded sagely. Because he, too, had plans. He could see Sanjay really moving into the tower (instead of maintaining three residences, two in New York and one in Bangalore.) He could see Sanjay sitting by his side someday, casually chatting about _their_ budding plans to a sagely nodding Pepper.

And when Sanjay called from Amsterdam to gush about his new friend Abdülaziz?Abdülaziz the Muslim, Abdülaziz the Social Justice Wonder Warrior, Abdülaziz the eunuch, Abdülaziz who was working with homeless youth in India and couldn’t Stark Industries write him a very large check? Tony was thrilled for his lover and shared his enthusiasm and, naturally, his money. And when Sanjay came back to America gushing over Abdülaziz to Tony, and to Pepper and Maria, and to Happy and to anyone who would sit still enough to listen, well, Tony just glowed with pride at his lover’s new hobby. And when Sanjay asked permission over the phone to take the Social Justice Wonder Warrior to bed? Tony had absolutely no problem. Hell, he was in an open relationship – an open relationship with Pepper, an open relationship with Sanjay, an open relationship with the world. 

Besides, Tony _knew_ how shy Sanjay was in bed. Had spent months just trying to _get_ him there. Had been patient and gentle and tender and goodnatured about it. Had even pretended it didn’t matter. Because Sanj just had a low sex-drive, that’s all. Tony could adjust. If sex wasn’t all that important to Sanjay, then Tony could adjust accordingly. That was the new Tony. That was the new lifestyle.

And when Sanj and Social Justice Wonder Warrior disappeared off the face of the planet along with the Stark Foundation grant money and no one had any idea what had happened for two weeks? And when Sanj and SJWW finally surfaced in Goa with NEW plans to open a home for gay youth in Goa AND planned to get married (AND Sanjay was converting to Islam, why any man would want to convert to Islam AND marry a man at the same time no one could explain to Tony) well…

…lets just say Tony wasn’t adjusting very well.

So how he lived in his empty Stark Tower penthouse, looking out at a bleak and sterile city, loved by half the world and utterly alone. And who did he have to blame for that? He was in an open relationship with Pepper. He was in an open relationship with Sanjay. They were open, loving, tender relationships and they were both so open he fell right the fuck out.

** Anthony Alone III, The Travesty **

He fell right the fuck out, and he landed _hard_. He tried to dive back into the tech again (ah god it had worked the first time, hell he had once almost lost Pepper _because_ of the tech) and yet it was as if the tech wasn’t having him either. Which meant there was nothing to distract him from the cold, harsh world he was living in – a world where he had learned to take care of himself in order to take care of a man who was no longer there. If the tech didn’t take him back, where else was there to go? He was too damn old for coke (although the alcohol was beginning to call his name again.)

It wasn’t that the tech wasn’t there, it’s just that it wasn’t _pulling him in_ the way it used to. And if he couldn’t lose himself in the tech, well, what else was a man supposed to do when he had gone 72 hours without sleep? Casual sex was out – that was a habit he had lost when he was patiently waiting for Sanj; patiently waiting to get Sanj into bed, patiently waiting to get Sanj back home, patiently waiting for Sanj to get back in the mood to get back in bed …. Tony had gotten used to waiting. Casual sex with a stranger didn’t work for him anymore, not when he was only interested (desperate sometimes) to get naked with one of the two human beings on the earth that he loved. (Well, there were three – but Bruce was far away. And relying on Bruce for more than a couple of nights was always a mistake.) It’s not that Pepper wasn’t still sleeping with him – she would if he asked. Hell she would sleep with him while Maria hung out in the next room if that’s what it took. She was still willing to take care of him. She always would be.

But Pepper’s mind was somewhere else, now. Lord knew he knew what that felt like. Besides, that would only end his skinhunger – his heart would still be aching. Aching for what he was so damn sure he had, and didn’t have at all.

Fortunately, he was still an Avenger.

The tech wasn’t having him, but danger was always available. Crime took no holidays.

So, on occasion, he had Avenger Adventures to distract him from his new barren lifescape. 

Avenger Adventures meant high-octane situations, plenty of adrenaline, technical problems that had to be solved RIGHT NOW and mostly long periods of time that involved Not Thinking.

And then there was Peter.

Avenger Adventures involved Peter, too.


	2. Assassins As Couples' Therapists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as he wanted to bitch and moan and wax Shakespearean about his life, he really could be counting his blessings. Peter brightened up the room whenever he walked in it – and he was walking in it a lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone has forgotten, Natasha Romanov was originally assigned by SHIELD to get into Tony's bed.
> 
> She didn't.
> 
> But she DOES know that guy pretty damn well.

But dammit he should have let Pepper take him to bed with Maria in the next room because his skinhunger was getting _bad_. Very bad. He could tell, because every time Peter touched him he lit up like a Christmas Tree. 

And he was touching Peter too much – he knew it. Putting his hands on the boy’s waist to move him out of the way of the holotable instead of just walking around him. Accenting his point by putting both hands on Peter’s shoulders and shaking him back and forth. Hugging him every damn time they made a technological breakthrough – or whenever he left on a trip – or whenever he left at the end of the day.

Dammit no wonder the boy started kissing him on the mouth.

* * * 

As much as he wanted to bitch and moan and wax Shakespearean about his life, he really could be counting his blessings. Peter brightened up the room whenever he walked in it – and he was walking in it a lot. He was such a normal feature in Stark Tower, both in the penthouse and in the lab, that Tony was beginning to miss him when he wasn’t there. He had his own corner of the refrigerator. He had a lot of access to FRIDAY for food delivery and music options. He kept a change of clothes there. Despite the fact that he was full-time at Columbia and still the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, he still made time for Tony. And that made life good.

And if Tony started to worry that he was demanding _too_ much of the kid’s time? Well there were always business trips or Avenger business to take him out of town for a while. That kept him busy. Busy with work or relaxing with Peter was his safety net. His safety net was good.

Then _that day_ happened and Tony saw his fragile safety net begin to disintegrate and that was very, very bad.

That day – the day Tony thought of as **The Day Of The Slowdance**. _That_ day.

He had literally sat in his lab for hours, spinning around in a swivel chair, trying to think of something to occupy his time. He had nothing. Nothing inspired. Once again he was diving into the tech, only to realize the tech had rejected him too. He was seriously thinking about drinking – dammit it was 2:00 in the afternoon! when he suddenly texted Peter and asked him to come by to help him with some suit issues “that have me stumped.” It was a lie of course, but by the time Peter got there he could trust his brain with _something_ that Peter could work on. Then, when Peter’s brain started working, **_his_** brain would start working to.

Not since Bruce had Tony been with such a perfect lab partner, had worked with someone who just _got_ it? But for all Bruce’s brilliance, they were both exited about different fields. When those two fields overlapped, they were magic together.

With Peter it was magic _all the time_.

He barely had to explain something to Peter before he was off and running with it. 

The kid had all of his brilliance with none of his flaws. Sure, experience and education were missing. That was expected. But Peter _got_ him. He followed exactly where Tony’s brain was headed without even having to be told. Tony had worked with people in college, obviously. And in his early days at SI, he’d led teams of engineers. Tony described it to Peter in terms of a root canal (And Peter agreed, he had the same problems in study groups and college lectures that were just too damn slow.)

Waiting for them to catch up… expecting them to be able to extrapolate where he was going from where he’d been…just having to stop and explain _why_ his brain had gone in that direction…there was none of that with Peter. They worked together like they were two parts of a whole. That was good. That made life good.

But something was off that night. First, Peter showed up early. His last class, he explained, was all reading text and passing tests. That meant Tony hadn’t really had time to come up with the excuse for needing him in the lab, so he tried to keep him in the kitchen, talking about random things. 

Peter had been in a _great_ mood when he arrived, cheerful and bouncy and… were those a pair of faded-in-all-the-right-places _skinny jeans_? Peter was dressing up these days. Probably showing off for the hot nerdy girls that had Columbia had hiding somewhere.

Or hot boys. Peter had mentioned that, casually. Tony had been trying to ignore that fact.

But then they _were_ in the lab, and Tony had to make due.

“This fucking joint in my helmet. Sorry, language.” Peter laughed at the inside joke. “This has been a problem since the Mark II prototype. Here.” Tony pointed to a crescent shaped scar on the right side of his neck. “Only on this side. Only right here,” he said, improvising randomly. “There is no way that the nanotech should be pinching there.”

Peter looked at the projection on Tony’s holotable, then looked closely at the scar on Tony’s neck (and if Tony took that moment to close his eyes and breathe in Peter’s scent? No one needed to know.)

Then he was back at the projection on the holotable, looking intently for a problem that didn’t exist (and if Tony took those few moments to check out the view of Peter’s jeans from behind? No one needed to know.)

Peter’s mouth twisted adorably as he tried to puzzle out the problem that didn’t exist. “So we’re looking for something small – just a clump – maybe not big enough to cause the snag in the retraction process for anyone else, but you’re sensitive to it enough to notice.”

“Unless…..” Peter began. “What if you’ve been experiencing that for so long… Could you have accidentally programmed it in, believing it to be a part of the suit? A feature not a flaw?”

“Huh,” Tony responded. It was better than letting his jaw hang open in silence. Leave it to Peter to solve a problem that wasn’t even there.

They worked on various aspects of the retraction for an hour or so, passing projections over to each other’s workstations (although Peter kept insisting on working on the original at Tony’s station, claiming it had better resolution and there wasn’t a delay. Which was bullshit, but so was the ‘delay’ they were working on so who was Tony to complain?)

Tony tried to relax and let the inspiration come – any minute now Peter would say something that would give him an idea and then they would have something real to work on – but it wasn’t happening.

Mostly because Peter kept trying to change the subject.

Every other question seemed not to be about what the tech but about his personal life. Tony deflected, of course. He was the uncontested pro at deflection. Especially when the kid seemed to be pressing him for info on topics he was actively trying to forget about. So what was the deal with Pepper and Maria, really? And what the deal with that Sanjay guy? Wasn’t he just living one floor down, or something? And what was up with that wedding?

“Break!” Tony announced suddenly, and headed toward the kitchen.

“Let’s eat. Then I’ll put on the suit. Slow the enclosure process down and have FRIDAY record it. You can watch the snag happen.”

* * * *

“This isn’t all bad,” he said as they arrived in the kitchen. You solved a problem I've been living with for years. One I never solved…."

At that Peter called out “Yes! Success! Time to celebrate! FRIDAY play some dance music!” and the next thing Tony knew “Ride On” was playing and he had an armful of Peter Parker.

Peter’s head was, mercifully, leaning on his chest, so the boy couldn’t see him standing stiffly, dumbfounded. He danced with Peter, of course, it seemed the polite thing to do. His hand was on Peter’s waist, but that was ok, he had touched Peter there before. But is OTHER hand now contained a handful of Peter’s hand, and for some absurd reason, in that moment, that touch struck him as beyond intimate. No wonder he gaped. All this time he had conned the boy into thinking there was a problem with his suit and the entire time Peter had been planning this…..what exactly?”

Which is why, when Peter smiled up at him, all he could do was stare and say “What are you doing, Kid?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Peter asked, sounding innocent.

Tony’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t speak, so he only shrugged.

The pain in Peter’s eyes hurt Tony to the quick, hurt him so badly he wanted to pull the boy’s head close again, hold him and apologize. But the kid covered it well, and before he could act, the look was gone.

And now Peter was smiling.

“Then I’ll just have to keep doing it until you figure it out.”

Tony pulled him close.

He kept his hand on the center of Peter’s back (safely away from Peter’s ass, dammit, he was going to be a gentleman about this.) He pressed the boy’s body against his own until he could feel Peter’s heartbeat hammering in his chest.

Oh no, wait, that was just him. He laid his chin on Peter’s head and held on for dear life.

And still they kept dancing.

In that moment – for maybe two minutes or more – Tony could see it. He could see it _all_ , and it was so beautiful:

Moving Peter into a room in Stark Tower (not into the Penthouse itself, they had to keep up appearances. At least until Peter graduated.) Or better yet, just buying a building close to Columbia and creating a new lab. The lower levels would be tech libraries and a Gen Z coffee shop where Peter could hang out with his college friends, the top level would be their penthouse where they would sleep in each other’s arms every night. Tony would sleep normal hours, waking in the morning to make Peter breakfast before classes, puttering in the lab and having dinner ready when Peter came home. Keeping his schedule flexible so it could change every semester, sitting down at the dinner table and having FRIDAY coordinate their schedules: Winter Breaks, Spring Breaks, Summer Breaks. They would spread them out on a holocalendar shining in the air, pointing out long unscheduled 3-day weekends they would spend in Paris. Peter would study on the plane and Tony would make him omelets.

And it would be Peter. It would be all Peter. Peter would be the reason he remembered to eat, remembered to sleep. All so he could remind Peter to eat and sleep. He would take care of himself so he could take care of Peter. He would worry about Peter during long overnight study sessions with friends, and Peter would worry about him when he left on business trips, they would text each other ‘I miss yous’ and ‘I love yous’ and when they returned to each other….

…they would dance in Tony’s kitchen _just like this_.

Clutching Peter’s hand in his own Tony separated their bodies for a moment, holding Peter out at the end of his arm, spinning him under it, then scooping him back up in that tender embrace and putting his chin back on Peter’s head. Peter moved his face closer and Tony sighed, resting his lips against Peter’s forehead. It was perfect. It was heaven.

He could see it all – the years of impatiently waiting for Peter to graduate. The arguments, both petty and profound. The inevitable butting of heads when two fiercely independent people tried to live in the same place. The broken promises, dates missed because of last-minute study sessions, extra long business meetings. Harsh words, sometimes ridiculous, sometimes eye-opening, the tender intense make-up conversations afterwards. The makeup sex. The roses that came with apologies.

He was actually wondering if FRIDAY could tell him which florists delivered the fastest – would Peter object to having flowers delivered to him in class? Would a florist deliver roses to Columbia? Because he could almost here the arguments now, the arguments they would be having as Peter got tense and testy as he prepared to graduate. Arguments that were mostly about nothing, but were really all about the alarming prospect of the future. Arguments that Tony could tell (although he would never point out) were really about this young fledgling longing to spread his wings, to take his first flight, to leave the nest…..

Because that is exactly what Peter would want to do.

Because the boy in his arms, the boy 30 years his junior, the boy slowdancing with him now, looked at him as a Father Figure. 

And Father Figures, even the ones you have sex with, even the ones you get naked with, even _those_ Father Figures had to be shed by young men fighting to become independent. 

Tony’s heart started pounding again.

As absurd as it was, he could hear it. The argument. The argument with the In-3-Years-Peter, the so-near-to-graduation-he-could-taste-it-Peter. That arguing Peter had angry eyes and a furrowed forehead and he was trying not to raise his voice but he was, and Tony was too, and they were shouting at each other, and anyone listening in would think that they were arguing over Tony’s too-long business trips, or maybe his too-short business trips, or else it was Peter’s too-long study sessions (with that lab partner that Peter fought with _constantly_ and complained about _constantly_ but now was suddenly singing the praises of now that the project was nearly complete) and anyone listening in would certainly have thought the whole argument could have been settled by an apology and more roses but _Tony would know_ , Tony would know in his marrow that this was Peter needing to spread his wings, to establish his independence, to leave the nest.

Because what do boys do when they graduate from college?

_They leave home._

Peter, the real Peter, the Peter in his arms, was looking up at him, was waiting for a kiss. Tony could do that. Tony could kiss him and lead him into the other room and gently work him out of his pants and sink into his arms and sink into his body and come deep inside him and declare his true love, oh yes, Tony could do that.

Tony didn’t.

The song ended, and Tony clutched Peter’s hand in his own. He separated their bodies and held Peter out at the end of his arm. Peter willingly spun under it, trusting.

And when Peter’s back was turned Tony let go of his hand and walked out of the room.

“FRIDAY play disco,” he called out, never looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know you can't leave another kudos, so why not leave a comment?


	3. New York Harbor

Did he hide like a coward in his lab, waiting breathlessly for FRIDAY to confirm that Peter had left? Oh yes he did.

Did he pack a bag and leave that night for LA on some feigned business trip? Oh yes, he most certainly did.

Did he stop inviting Peter over to work in the lab on projects real and imagined, and did he make damn sure that there were always people in Stark Tower when Peter did show up? Oh most certainly this was the case. Tony could be one very popular guy when wanted to be. And that’s why weeks passed before he had to deal with an armful of Peter again.

He acted casual during those times in-between, but inwardly he was frantic. _This is ok, this is ok,_ he kept telling himself. “Yes I just broke up with Spider-Man, and yes, it hurts. But loosing the kid after only one slowdance, that’s a pain I can bear, right?”

He kept repeating the mantra to himself as a week passed, and then another. But then he got lonely for the Kid and might have accidentally allowed him in the tower when he was alone. 

“We’re not going to do this, Kid,” Tony said, when that alone time turned into a tender embrace.

“We’re not going to do this, Kid,” he said even as he wrapped his arms around Peter and held him close. He had only let his guard down just for a second and the Kid swooped in, superhero that he was.

“Why not?” Peter asked, logically, and Tony opened his mouth to tell the whole Graduating From Columbia daydream but it was too big to come out. 

He tried to talk about what Peter deserved, but he got cut off.

“You let _me_ decide what I deserve.”

So he tried to tell the truth – or at least part of the truth. He _did_ love Peter’s crush on him, loved it? For a while he was living for it. But suggesting that this was a legitimate reason to say no now just earned him a sweet kiss on his face, and then on the corner of his mouth.

The self-control that it took to not move the quarter inch and taste that boy for himself was agonizing.

Then the boy left, and Tony covered his face in shame.

He had told the boy ‘No.’

But the boy _probably_ had trouble believing him when he had said “No” while holding a handful of Peter’s ass.

He forced himself to act calm, even as the kid walked away, even as his heart was hammering frantically in his chest. _This is ok, this is ok,_ he could hear the mantra forming in his head even now.. “Yes I just broke up with Spider-Man, and yes, it hurts. But loosing the kid after only _one_ slowdance, and _one_ handful of ass, that’s a pain I can bear, right?”

There was a second mantra, one that formed in his head as his private plane carried him away from New York City.

“You have the obvious advantage. _Peter_ has the hard job, constantly waiting for you to be alone, constantly waiting to swoop in when you are unguarded. He’s the one who has to keep generating arguments why you should be together. _All you have to do is keep saying no_.” 

But he didn’t say ‘no’ the next time Peter made a move on him, he said something much worse. A team of Avengers had returned from South America and were debriefing in Stark Tower and Peter made an unexpected appearance. Tony was beyond grateful he was there – these group meetings ground on and on and made Tony angsty, but Peter made it easy to relax. They even had time to catch up, standing side by side and talking for quite a while while other Avengers fought for Tony’s attention. 

But then the others began departing in various directions and Tony found himself absurdly _fleeing_ from Peter, backing up as if the boy were going to mug him, grimacing, hating himself for grimacing.

“I’m not doing this!” Tony had whispered to him, fully aware that he _had_ been doing it. Had stood shoulder to shoulder with Peter for the entire meeting. Had defended Peter to the group, had glowed when Peter defended him. “What are you two, Batman and Robin now?” Barton had joked, and he and Peter had simultaneously shrugged. Peter had nudged him when Fury said something particularly appalling, Tony had nudged him back when Nat countered. They shared knowing looks. They shared inside jokes. More than one. He had been ‘doing this.’ He had been ‘doing this’ shamelessly.

He wanted to explain, he did, but the penthouse was full of people. Wanted to explain how he was sure he could bear the pain of breaking up with Peter after only one slowdance, after only one handful of ass. But breaking up with Peter after getting naked? Breaking up with Peter after Peter had met his idol and found him wanting? He tried to explain that there were just some pains he couldn’t bear.

That’s not what came out of his mouth, but it was close.

 _“How to be brave_  
_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall_  
But watching you stand alone  
_All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow_ ” some random Millennial with a honey voice sang endlessly.

“Peter…. hacked into FRIDAY as….as a practical joke. Only he forgot to hack out,” Tony muttered to the remaining Avengers. He didn’t try to wrestle with FRIDAY in front of them. He knew Peter’s hacking skills. He had honed a few of them himself.

“So, did you two break up?” Nat asked, after the others had gone. He had poured himself a drink and was downing it by the heliopad. It was the only place to get away from the condemning music.

“We were never dating.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“So you’re admitting you’re not very good at your job? Odd business strategy, Romanoff.”

“Look, I know Anand running off to marrying the Gay Jesus of India really rattled your cage…”

“…the Limp-Dicked Gay Jesus of India…” Tony muttered.

“But I could have told you about Anand. I _would_ have told you about Anand, if you had asked me. But you didn’t ask me…”

“I’m sorry, since when do I take dating advice from a master assassin?”

“I _read_ people Tony. _You_ used to read people too, but you missed that one. You fell for an object in motion – I’m sorry it came to a surprise to you that he kept moving…”

“…so you saw it coming.” 

Nat shrugged.

“So now I should come to you for dating advice.”

“Yes, yes you should.”

“Well Peter is an object in motion too, constantly motion,” Tony muttered, mostly to himself. 

“ _Predictable_ motion, and its right _beside_ _you_. You two can’t see yourself from the outside, Tony, I can. Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business,”

“It’s none of your business.”

“… but Peter _works_ for you. You’re good together.”

“I’m sorry, were you….were you trained in _this_ too? In addition to interrogation, did SHIELD use you as Yenta the Matchmaker? How is this your job?”

“SHIELD used me to know _you_ , and I do know you. And for the record, you’ve been miserable for a while now. And it’s not good for the Avengers. The Avengers _is_ my job.”

She left him, mercifully, alone after that. Alone in his empty home. Alone within walls echoing _I will not let anything, take away/What's standing in front of me/Every breath, every hour has come to this._

“Fuck your bravery, lady, whoever you are,” he grumbled. It took him half an hour to convince FRIDAY to give up the serenade. It shouldn’t have taken that long, but it was hard to concentrate, in between the constant shots of scotch and that soothing voice insisting _“darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years.”_

* * * *

The mission with Wanda to her old stomping grounds in Serbia offered up an easy distraction. Demanding that Peter not be on the departing team was even easier – it was a dangerous mission. Whether Peter was “Good For Him” or not, Tony didn’t want Peter in danger.

Armored in his suit he met Peter on a random rooftop to give him the news. 

Tony winced when he thought of that day. He wasn’t proud of that day. He had determined to be outright cruel to Peter that day (as if he could ever be cruel to Peter.) Still he tried to use the worst words he knew that day – the kinds of words he had hated so much when he was Peter’s age. Words like ‘childish’ and ‘adult thing to do.’ He was glad he had kept his helmet on. He couldn’t bear to look at the Kid directly.

Was he hyperventilating when he got back to the Tower? Oh yes he was. Did the angry voices shouting _She Fucking Hates Me Lalala_ **la** at him as he tried to make his way to the lab fit his mood? Oh yes they did. They fit his mood very well. In fact by the end of the night found himself singing right along.

He didn’t even fight with FRIDAY about the song right away. No. Right away he fell in a slump against the wall, tears in his eyes. For an hour he remained there. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so _lonely_.

But he still had FRIDAY, and FRIDAY wanted to be good for him. For the next hour they talked, they bantered, they bartered, they bargained. He crooned to her gently and the challenge eased some of his pain, until he finally had some access to Peter’s hack. Peter had effectively shut him out of volume control and the off button, but he hadn’t thought to shut out Tony from the _playlist_. Rather than try anything more complicated (which would have required Tony get up off the floor) Tony simply added to the playlist. Soon FRIDAY was playing “Ride On” at acceptable volume levels for the man unable to get up off the floor.

Did he jerk off to the song? Oh yes he did. He did, and he wasn’t ashamed. He did and he dreamed of Peter. How Peter felt in his arms as they danced; so strong, so solid, so _willing_. He came whispering Peter’s name.

After he came, he thumped his head on the back of the wall over and over again. 

He tried remembering the mantras he had found before, but they had all dried up, and now the only one he could remember was “I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.”

He had the advantage. 

Peter was smart, but Tony was more experienced. Peter wanted to get laid, but Peter was also surrounded by dozens of college boys who were not only cute but somewhat intelligent as well. 

Besides, when he started to falter, he remembered - if they did have sex? Peter would expect him to _take off his shirt,_ and that simply couldn’t happen.

“FRIDAY? Add _one more_ to the playlist.”

And that’s how Tony Stark got up from the floor that next morning, packing his bags to Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.”

* * *

Tony knew he would develop some better evasive maneuvers after the mission in Serbia was over. The only reason something hadn’t happened that last day in the Tower was because other people were there. Peter was a lot stronger than Tony – oh god was Tony well aware of that fact – and as he had found out the first time Peter kissed his face, he had no control over his _hands_ when Peter was in his arms. It was because he was so damn touchstarved, Tony argued to himself.

It was because he was so damn lonely.

It was because it was Peter.

* * * *

As he arrived in New York from the Serbia debacle he didn’t even wait for the plane to land – he suited up and took to the skies. There was no need to join in the fray, really, the reports coming in from Spider-Man’s call was that the situation was 80% contained. But Tony decided to make an appearance.

Because Peter was there.

Besides, he and Peter hadn’t flown side-by-side above the streets of New York in _months_ , and he needed that. He needed that like a drowning man needs air.

He wasn’t in a hurry. He took his time, glowing with pride as he heard Peter try to talk the woman down, all while keeping an eye on KAREN’s readouts, when, suddenly, KAREN just wasn’t there. 

“In the water – _in the water_!” Rhodey’s voice came through over Tony’s shouts for KAREN. “Tony we need Sentinels….”

“Rhodey, tell me you have a visual on the kid. _Rhodey_? **_Do you have a visual on Spider-Man_?”**

“Oh god.” 

There was an interminable silence before Rhodey spoke again.

“It’s bad. He took a helicopter blade to the torso, Tony. Can he survive that?”

A cold, robotic feeling came over Tony as he ordered the appropriate medical response, as he ordered the Sentinels to locate Peter and dive into the harbor. 

It was a good thing Rhodey was there to supervise the water rescue of the the pilots – Tony had completely forgotten about them.

The cold robotic feeling didn’t diminish even when he was holding a dripping, freezing Peter in his arms, nor when they zoomed together, Peter on his back, over the streets of New York.

It might have lightened up, just a bit, when Tony finally deposited Peter at the top of his own building.

“Prove to me I don’t have to take you to Dr. Cho right now,” Tony groused, which is why Peter did a back flip and a handstand, and then a spectacular (and obscene) display of the splits.

True, he was only using one arm and the leg on one side was a little too slow to respond, but mostly Tony had to shake the image away from his head and acknowledge that Peter was safe to go home and sleep at May’s that night.

He disengaged his mask to look at Peter.

He wanted to say something to Peter about the Graduating From Columbia daydream, and his solid (and logical) belief that Peter would need to leave him once he got his diploma, for the same reason geese needed to fly south for the winter.

He wanted to say something about long-range plans and the practical reasons a person with a broken heart shouldn’t invest in more heartbreak.

But he also wanted to say something about the fact that, despite all of Peter’s protestations, he had _not_ been swimming ‘with his good arm’ and he was _not_ ‘almost to the top’ of the New York Harbor. 

The Sentinels had picked him up 20 meters below the surface, and he hadn’t been swimming.

He hadn’t been moving at all. 

Tony wanted to say something about 3-year-plans, and long-range plans, and the moment when he realized he might have lost Peter altogether without a chance to tell him anything.

But Tony said none of those things.

All he said was “When you’re ready, come to the Tower. You can play any music you want.”

He wished he hadn’t disengaged the helmet when he had.

He was having trouble looking at Peter even now.

Back in his Tower, he realized, much to his chagrin, that his life was becoming yet another Shakespearean Tragedy.

This one would be

** Antonio And Peter-ette **

It was the kind of Shakespearean tragedy you went to on Valentine’s day. Yes, the girls in the audience were sighing now, but Tony was in the know, holding the script, and he knew it would all end in tears.

But hell, it _might_ be sweet and romantic in the middle. There might be kissing and slow dancing and sweet lovemaking in the middle acts, before the tears began. And why not?

“Yes, I will break up with Spider-Man, and yes, it will hurt!” Tony wanted to call out to the sighing girls in his imaginary audience.

“But losing the Kid after only _one_ slow-dance, and _one_ handful of ass and _one_ sweet night of lovemaking, that’s a pain I can bear, right?”

“Right?”

“ _Right_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story.
> 
> This is not the end of the series.

**Author's Note:**

> You've come this far, why not leave a comment?


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